Prompt: Hand
by Echo Hellfire
Summary: Michael has certain thoughts about a certain vampire. Based on a random prompt I came up with. Rated M because i'm paranoid. I'm awful at summaries. More inside. My first story, be gentle.


**Prompt: Hand**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Lost Boys. I only own The Lost Boys DVD, and I will soon own a few t-shirts and The Thirst DVD but other than that, I own nothing to do with the Lost Boys.**

**Warnings: Dirty Thoughts and Michael erm…relieving himself to them.**

**I was sitting in my SFL class and had nothing else to do, so I flipped open "Christine" by Stephen King and randomly placed my finger on a word. That word was 'hand'. Only one idea came to mind. And the pairing is random because I flipped a coin multiple times to come up with it. I consider myself lucky, I could have gotten a difficult one such as 'car' and Alan Frog/ David :S**

**Anyway, on with the story!**

**Pairing: Michael/Mystery Vampire  
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**I'll probably let you know at the end, but I've tried to leave some not so subtle clues throughout so try and guess.**

**(Set after Sam and Michael get home after the first time Michael follows Star, at the concert thing)**

**~PAGE BREAK~  
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Michael lay in bed thinking. Not many people knew it but Michael Emerson liked to think, ponder things that had happened. He cast his mind back to the events of tonight. Those bikers had been strange, not the way they dressed or looked, nothing physical. Michael had gotten a weird vibe from them, he didn't like the way they looked at him like he was a tasty little morsel they wanted to drag away and gobble up! And not in the fun way either! But that dark haired hottie that had caught his eye, he wouldn't have minded being 'gobbled' by them. He thought about courting the luscious dark brunette.

Michael's eyes slid closed as he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans. His lips parted and a moan escaped him as his large hand glided against his heated flesh and dipped beneath the waistband of his briefs, gripping himself. He stroked from the base to the head then back, squeezing little at the base. He released a sigh of contentment.

"Oh fuck."

That body. _Shit_, the soft-looking skin stretched taut over a chest that made Michael want to run his hands up and down it, feeling how soft that skin was. He wanted to feel every bump, lump and ridge on that torso, to stroke them with his hands and taste them with his tongue. Michael had been mesmerised by the sweat glistening on his chest, reflecting the light from the crappy streetlights on the Boardwalk. He felt like he was going to start drooling (he had felt a little saliva trickle out of the corner of his mouth but no one had to know that).

Michael's hand picked up speed at the images and imaginary smells and feelings assaulting his senses.

His thoughts drifted to the legs of his fantasy lover. Michael hadn't seen much of those (potentially) fantastic legs through _their_ choice of attire but they looked long and muscular, not to mention the promising bulges in the material that covered the object of his desire's legs and…_other_ parts of their anatomy. Michael wanted to explore these places with both his inquisitive hands and probing tongue. Said tongue poked out of Michael's mouth and wetted his suddenly dry lips.

Michael's hand was going like crazy! He was positive he was going to get friction burn. And **not **in the fun way either!

Those sinful thoughts that had gotten him into this position floated back up his imaginary lover's body to those arms and _oh god_ those hands. Those hands that looked more than capable of taking care of him and his needs. He imagined those hands sliding down his bare chest and stomach, stroking his abs (hey! This is Michael's fantasy so back off bud!) Their tongues sliding against Michael's. Those hands sliding below the waistband of his jeans, into his pants. Stroking his erection to full-blown hard-on, caressing him to the brink, squeezing him, whispering sweet (dirty) nothings into his ear. The hand, in place of Michael's in his fantasy, stroking him to heaven.

"Uh. Shit, shit, shit, fuck. So-so fucking close. Fuckshitcockbollocks. Urgh."

Those muscular arms holding their owner up as they thrust against Michael, bringing them both closer to the edge.

God! My cock better explode soon or the rest of me _will_!

Michael moaned as his phantom lover trailed rough but gentle fingers delicately down his torso and gripping his pulsing dick.

Images of them talking, laughing, joking flashed past Michael's closed eyes. Then the pictures became more sensual and erotic. Them hugging, holding, kissing, _loving_ each other.

Touching each other, tasting each other, feeling each other. That hair, looking thoroughly sexed up. Those dark eyes, the dull ebb of satiated lust filling them. Those fingers, drawing idle, shapeless patterns on Michael's cooling flesh. That defined, tanned chest, pressed flush against Michael's back. Those well-developed arms wrapped around him, holding him close in post-coital bliss. His sinful looking lips gently whispering in his ear.

"Michael"

Michael gave a pained whimper as he felt his release approaching and his balls tightening. Then a strangled cry escaped his lips as he arched up off of the bed and exploded into his hand and his briefs. He gently slid back down to the bed, fully satiated, and gave a relieved sigh. He barely had enough energy to pull his sticky hand out of his equally sticky briefs before he felt all of his bones and muscles turn to jelly in post-orgasm bliss. He fell completely limp against the rumpled sheets on his bed.

As he felt himself fall into a post-orgasmic slumber, his final thought for the night was 'next time, I've got to try using my fingers too…' he didn't notice the dark, smouldering eyes that had occupied his thoughts not 3 minutes ago, nor did he notice the similar look of satiated lust that filled them.

Michael didn't, and most likely would never know, that those eyes had been watching him for the past 20 minutes. The owner of the eyes had been told to watch over the potential newbie, to help decide whether or not he was vampire material or Star's very first meal. He had been shocked (and aroused) when the human had slid his hand into his underwear and started to jerk off. It was better (hotter and _much_ more erotic) when he had dipped into the lusty teen's mind and discovered the lusty thoughts had him in the starring role. The aroused vampire had begun getting impatient when the thoughts were mere observations (however accurate) of him.

'A little nudge in the sexy direction couldn't hurt, could it?'

Yes. It had been him when the thoughts had started turning towards sex. It had been more for (Michael?) than himself, but everything everyone did was a little bit selfish. He got to mess with the boy's head AND get some dirty images to replay and use at a later date. At the point of Michael's orgasm, he had been so close to leaving evidence of his "mission" on the side of the house, it physically hurt to stop when he was called home.

David's voice penetrated his deeply lust-addled mind.

"Dwayne, come home. It'll be sun up soon."

Dwayne groaned and, begrudgingly, tucked himself away. Before returning to the abandoned hotel/cave they called home, he cast another glance at Michael.

"Next time, you won't be alone."

**~PAGE BREAK~**

**Well? What do you think? Good? Bad? ****Should I be proud of my first posted fic? Or should I just delete all my stories and hang my head in shame?**

**Please be gentle, this is my first born. It was actually supposed to be a drabble but it was too long. Like my dick! I'm joking I'm a girl, I don't have one…::checks:: no, it's alright. I'm all woman. :D**

**Reviews are love...or crack. Reviews are also like crack.**


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